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My Enigmatic Germination

July 9, 2010

“The germ grows into knowledge and life” 17 Cancer

This symbol is illuminated 2:12 AM EDT July 8 (6:12 AM GMT, July 8)

Theme: Germination.

Inspiration: Tenderness is the greatest strength: consider the tender roots of a newly germinated seed.

Today: The amazing thing about understanding something about the deep code of life is witnessing the miracle of life actually unfolding, germinating and growing before your eyes.

Energies are such that, today, you may be able to make the connection between your best understanding of how the world works and seeing it actually work that way.

Think of it this way: you have planted a seed some time ago on the theory that it may grow and allow greater understanding of realms beyond the perceptual world. It may be that your seed is germinating today… that what used to be speculation, hopefulness and theoretical projection, is now experience, knowledge and life.

 

In one of my significant waking-life occupations, I was a codemaker and a codebreaker. To an outsider I appeared to be just another bank clerk; a communications officer working in the hiveheart of one of Australia’s leading national and international financial institutions in the 80s.

I was possibly more aware than others that an error on my part had the potential to ruin the day of some unknown private customer, small business owner, large importer/exporter or traveller in a faraway place. So I approached my work with a level of responsibility to those invisible people, which infused me with a sense of deep personal fulfillment and joy in my work.

I had confidence in my abilities, was well-trained, experienced, adept at trouble-shooting, efficient with prioritizing and time-management, and my colleagues trusted my knowledge and being able to pull my weight when there was a backlog of work.

The culture of this department was, however, extremely toxic and dysfunctional. Like a dead fish it was rotten from the head down. The Manager hired me, not for my skills and past office work experience; but because he liked my C-cup tits and had envisioned from that first interview, that he would enviegle me into his bed, sooner or later. So much for labouring over my resume and gathering referees, huh?

He made his move when my father died (suddenly and unexpectedly) about 18 months after I had started in this job. Disguising his agenda behind the mask of sympathetic, caring and concerned workplace authority figure, he began to stalk me. Phoning me at home, even when he was on holidays with his partner; sidling up to me in dark corners at work; sending me on tasks to the basement where our records were stored only to ‘check up’ on me 15 minutes later; and generally letting me know that if I desired a special kind of grief-counselling, he would be happy to oblige.

I was only 22 and not wise enough to realise that his behaviour constituted sexual and workplace harrassment. These were the times before that workplace legislation really came into effect and was taken seriously. As the culture of my department was extremely harrassing on all levels, I had become immune to it. This office was a crucible for all the negative and dense emotions of human nature. People’s shadow-selves ran rampant and we all thought it was the norm. Only the tough survied and I had developed a clever repertoire of comebacks to deflect the slings and arrows aimed at me.

After 18 months on the job, I knew this manager had had numerous liasions with other women in the office, so I was determined not to be another notch on his bedpost; or to become the subject of gossip in the men’s urinal. I managed to slip away from his greasy grasping and the consequences of my rejection of his advances was to be denied promotion within the department, the ability to transfer out of it and further my career elsewhere, and the denial of incentive/good performance bonuses – plus a host of other subtle paybacks for not lying on my back.

Because I was young and socialized to ‘go along to get along’ I didn’t take my issue with this Manager to Human Resources because I didn’t want to get him into trouble; because I thought they wouldn’t believe me; because I thought I’d be shunned and ridiculed by my colleagues (branded a troublemaker, a wimp, a crybaby); because I thought that in some way I had invited – asked – for his unwanted attentions.  I kept my concerns, my feelings to myself and confided in nobody. I doubted my interpretation of his interest in me and rationalized it: maybe his concern was genuine and I was blowing it all up out of proportion.

So I didn’t go to Human Resources and after another couple of years of not being promoted and being stiffed on bonuses and not having my first preference for annual leave approved: I resigned.

A couple of months afterwards I heard through the grapevine that this Manager had been transferred to bending paperclips in what constituted “Siberia” in the bank. A place where there would be no hope of promotion, no hope of getting out (except via resignation), and no authority. It seems that Human Resources had been watching him for a long, long time and were just waiting for a solid complaint, a clear demonstrated evidence that he was abusing his position and sexually harrassing his female staff.

I had that evidence in Autumn 1985.

I had the power to give Human Resources the silver bullet they needed. And they wouldn’t have transferred him. He would have been terminated. Dishonourably discharged with an indelible black mark against his character.

Six months later I was offered my old job back and because I accepted, got to meet – another couple of years later – the sister of the man I would marry. But that’s another story.

This Manager bore the nickname of “Guts”.

As I work through the process of understanding from a deep metaphysical perspective why I have developed an anxiety and panic disorder that has restricted my life, I recently came across an article by a gastroenterologist-metaphysician who described anxiety atttacks as “panic attacks of the gut”.

Gut – “Guts”.

I asked my gut “What can you tell me about how I came to have this health challenge?” and the above waking-life, working-life story was related to me by the archetypal guardian of Faith: the Prostitute.  The archetypal energy I have that was canny enough not to succumb to my Manager’s sexual advances, yet still negotiated away her instincts about this man, about what I needed to do to protect myself; for the sake of financial and job security.

Every position I have ever accepted has been through the Shadow Prostitute; the one that takes a job she doesn’t really like for the money; who stays in jobs that are really lousy for the money.

Every position I have not applied for these last 3 years has been because the Prostitute is now my ally; guarding my Faith while I have been working through a gruelling process of detoxification of my energy bodies, my concepts about worklife, irrational beliefs and core values I absorbed from those who socialized me and taught me to “go along to get along”.

People, institutions, groups, authority figures, teachers, whoever – who taught me not to trust my gust instincts. Who told me to shut up and stop making a fuss.  Sound familiar?

I am still a codebreaker and the Soul’s code that is encrypted in our waking-life, working-life experiences can be found also in the enigmatic symbols in our dreaming life. It is within your dreams that you find the loose thread that unravels the Sacred Contract inherent in each and every event, nonevent, in your life. 

In your dreaming you will find your seeds……………..

This is my greatest skill at the intersection of past, present and future. I unlocked this ancient grudge, this energetic resonances of having my personal boundaries violated and the belief I was unempowered to protect myself, through revisiting dreams I had recorded in 1992.  That I didn’t have the language to understand on more than a shallow level.

Give me your past waking-working life experience, tell me your present dreaming life symbols and I can help you awaken the divine potential of your future – which is as close as your next breath.

Martha Beck in her 2008 book “Steering by Starlight” wrote:

I think we may be living in the middle of a shaman population explosion.

Anxiety and Panic Disorder is a “shaman sickness”.   And it is a very very common complaint.  As is Workplace harrassment.  Consider my story before you reach for the anti-anxiety pills.

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2 comments

  1. You have really given me something to think about *very* deeply. It could be my own story, repeated to various degrees over the years. I am still in the shadow of the Prostitute; I think it’s a rite of passage to make Her your ally. Like you said, if you don’t have the language, it’s not possible to understand fully. I hope I learn how to, sooner rather than later!

    I am often envious of your journey, because it sounds like you have been exposed to so many interesting things – things I haven’t even heard of! I worry that I won’t have enough time 🙂 (And “check” on anxiety and panic disorder.)

    My past working experiences are basically falling into a position where I am needed, rather than have any particular desire for. I take on responsibility where no one else will and it makes me desperately miserable. I CANNOT speak up for myself, even though I am able to fight to the death for everyone else. No job lasts for very long, though as I get older I have become more prone to stay to the point where I become physically ill from how unhappy I am. My most powerful dream symbol is water.


  2. One of the most difficult tasks is to individuate from the tribal mind. Behind the Prostitute is the “Good Girl”, the one we are socialized to become…..and to stay. A mature woman cannot remain a “Good Girl” without experiencing severe soul loss…..



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